


Rocking to a Jukebox

by masked



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Jukeboxes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 21:19:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16104002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masked/pseuds/masked
Summary: Dean learns, with gentle nudging from Cas, to pursue what he wants.





	Rocking to a Jukebox

**Author's Note:**

> written for the September challenge held by [deancaswc](https://deancaswc.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! my prompt was the dialogue "I would be lucky to even have a chance with you."

“Aw, sweetheart.” Dean moaned. “God damn, you’re beautiful. I would be lucky to even have a chance with you.”

“Dean,” said Sam. “Stop fondling the glass and let’s go.”

“I am _not_ —”

“You were,” Cas said.

“Wha—No I wasn’t!” Dean gave a tattering huff as Sam and Cas walked away. “Guys, come on!”

Dean wistfully looked back at the beautiful figure of a jukebox displayed at the front of the store, searing her image into his eyes for just a little longer before he hurried to catch up with them.

* * *

Dean knew it was Cas that was walking towards him while he himself was under the Impala, giving her a good ol’ tune up. Dude really had to get better looking shoes than those fugly expensive pair of Blundstones.

Cas stopped beside him and nudged one of his legs with a foot. “If you wanted it so much, why didn’t you buy it?”

“Buy what?”

“The jukebox.”

Dean’s hand stalled for a moment. “I mean, where would we even put her? She’s too big.”

“We have enough space in the bunker.”

“Well, who knows whether I could actually set that thing up to work? I could be pouring money down the drain for nothing.”

“I’m sure you’d learn.”

“Jeez, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Dean rolled out from underneath the car and wiped down the wrench he was holding. “We don’t really _need_ a jukebox. We already got a record player and Sam’s shitty ass iPod speakers.”

“Dean. You’re making excuses.”

“I—” Dean flushed. “I’m not! I’m just trying to be realistic here.”

Cas raised an eyebrow with a Look and Dean fidgeted with the wrench in hand, avoiding his piercing all-too-knowing eyes.

“Look, it’s not like I’m actually gonna go out and buy this thing.”

“Why not?”

“Because… Because! You just don’t go out and _buy_ something like that. And it’s not good to have real thoughts like ‘oh where would I put her’ or ‘how many songs could she hold’ or whatever when I’m not even gonna buy her.”

Cas gave him a skeptical look.

“That’s just how humans work,” he added.

Cas narrowed his eyes further but he usually never argued when Dean pulled the ‘humans just do things this way’ card. It was a dick move but Dean just wanted Cas to get off his dick. Figuratively. Obviously.

But for some reason, Cas was just as persistent to see this argument to the end this time around. “Dean, you don’t need to hold yourself back on every thing you want.”

“I’m not!”

“You are. There was the jukebox, then the suit of medieval armour you were fond of, and that food processor that seemed to get you going for a while.”

Dean rubbed his cheek with a sigh only to remember the grease on his hands and grimaced at the tart sticky pull on his face. He had half a mind to joke ‘now look what you’ve done’ but he didn’t say that. He shrugged. Under the buzz of the brightly lit garage lights, there were no secrets he could hide. “It’s just what I’m used to, I guess.”

“To what?”

Dean’s hands were filthy. “When I want something, and I mean _really_ want something, it’s… I try not to think about it too much.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I just never have.” Dean took a daring glance up at Cas. He gulped. “If I think about it too much then my head climbs up and up and up… and I end up with _huge_ expectations. Usually don’t work out so well. My own damn fault,” he said with a tight smile.

Cas’s face fell and along with it, Dean’s heart to his stomach. Why couldn’t Cas ever laugh these things off? Always so god damn sincere. “Dean, you’re still allowed to want things.”

Bold of Cas to say something like that, the pinnacle of what Dean—

Dean waved the thought away, and he was about to wave Cas off with a flippant comment when Cas stepped right into his space just then, close enough for Dean to see the deeper lines on Cas’s face that had developed over the years. He raised a hand over to Dean’s cheek and for that second Dean sucked in a breath and held it, his heart beating in his ears. Cas gently wiped off the grease that was streaked across his face.

“If you ever change your mind,” Cas said ever so softly, “about the jukebox or anything else, I promise I’ll come with you.”

Dean stayed like that, frozen with Cas’s palm warm against his cheek.

“Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay,” he added just for good measures.

Cas flashed a brief smile and he slipped away out of the garage, every step he took against the concrete floor simultaneous with Dean’s heartbeat.

Dean stood there uselessly for a while longer, taking a moment to thumb over the spot on his face.

Still warm.

* * *

It took Dean a month or two to think it over, to _really_ think it over and go through every reason on why he shouldn’t buy this jukebox only for Cas’s words to echo back to him. It took him a while longer to actually muster up the courage to knock on Cas’s door. But he did eventually knock on his door, and when he did, Cas was there on his feet, ready to kick back in the passenger seat on their drive to the store where they saw the jukebox.

“Someone probably already bought her,” Dean said mostly to himself on their way over.

“It might still be there,” replied Cas anyway, ever the optimist.

“Dude, did you even see her? She was fucking gorgeous. You’d have to be a fool to pass up on her.”

Cas gave him another Look and this time, Dean couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, alright. Whatever, dude. I was a fool.”

“At least you know now,” said Cas.

In a way, Dean was sure it didn’t even matter if the jukebox was gone or not. Well, maybe it did, but Dean felt… light. Like he could achieve anything he put his mind to. It was the most free he’d felt in years and the whole drive over to the store, Dean only hoped to god that he wasn’t too late in making this choice.

Maybe Chuck was listening though he doubted it, or maybe the universe was finally granting him one thing in his life that he wanted, but the jukebox was still sitting neatly in the display as if she’d been waiting for him to take her home the whole time. It only took a few minutes and a pair of shaky hands to purchase her, a few more to load her up in the car, and there Dean was, driving back home with something he chose for himself. Not for Sam, not for dad, not even for mom, but just. For him.

“Where will you put it?” Cas asked.

Dean tapped his thumbs on the wheel to no particular rhythm. He grinned. “I have a place in mind.”

* * *

Cas helped him to carry her over as Dean explained.

“Sam doesn’t know about this place yet. Actually, you’re the first person in here so hey, welcome to the uh… the Cave. Dean Cave? I still have to work on the name.”

Dean flicked on the lights and stationed the jukebox to the side where she fit in perfectly while Cas looked around the room. Dean didn’t have much in here with only band posters and album covers adoring the walls, but the jukebox made for a pretty sight in the otherwise empty room.

“When did you…?”

Dean shrugged. “I always wanted a room like this, to sort of hang back with a beer and play pool or whatever. It’s not much and I don’t have a lot to fill up the space right now, but I just… went for it anyway. And hey.” Dean chuckled. “Turns out, acting out on what I want is a lot more exciting than just thinking about it.”

Cas smiled all soft and knowing and this time, Dean didn’t ignore the flutter that came from the sight. He did fumble with the quarters but nobody could fault him for that. “Anyway, let’s give ‘er a whirl.”

The previous owner sure had some good taste and Dean recognized a number of songs. He picked whatever first song he was familiar with, which happened to be _Entre Nous_ by Rush. As soon as he plugged the number in, the electric piano and the beats of the drum and the guitar filled the room along with Dean’s heart, and Dean was just glad that they decided to do this whole ordeal while Sam was out.

“Pretty good, right?”

Cas grinned and nodded, walking towards him to peer over his shoulders. “I know that one,” he said, pointing out _Ramble On_. Dean had put it into Cas’s Zeppelin tape. “Play that one next.”

Dean nodded, his lips so much drier than it was moments ago as he queued up the song. For a while they stood side by side with their shoulders snug against each other, letting the music wash over them. _Entre Nous_ faded away. For all he’d done for it, Dean hoped that the universe was ready to grant him one more thing. “Hey, Cas?”

Cas was so god damn close to his face that Dean could practically count every one of his eyelashes. “Mm?”

“Thanks for... well. You know.” And Dean leaned over and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

With almost comical timing, _Ramble On_ started playing as Cas slowly turned his head, wide-eyed as he registered what’d just happened and… and a smile spread slowly over his lips and he leaned forward slightly, leaving just enough space for Dean to come forward and accept should he choose.

Dean licked his dry, dry lips, with Robert Plant cooing softly in the background. It was almost time for the chorus.

And this time, with their hand linked over the jukebox, Dean leaned over and kissed Cas properly. Cas’s arm wrapped around his waist and pulled them closer, deepening the kiss with another breath taken between them. Dean only realized he’d closed his eyes when he opened them again, and Cas was grinning at him with his lips red and sweet from their kisses.

“Did that meet your expectations?” Cas asked.

Dean blinked, and huffed even as his face grew hotter to match the shade of Cas’s lips. He nodded, hoping that his grin was as bright as Cas’s. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah.”

And he was sure, as they kissed again, that the universe had nothing to do with it at all, but it’d been just them all along.


End file.
